


Relentless

by FemailoftheSpecies



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FemailoftheSpecies/pseuds/FemailoftheSpecies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Gem of Amara is taken from Spike, Willow decides to go with Oz to take it to Angel in L.A. ... but Spike gets a better idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

The highway was stretched out before them, dark and deserted due to the late hour. Oz's van whizzed down the road quickly, if a little noisily as they headed to Los Angeles where the Dingoes were scheduled to perform. They were also doing Buffy a favor, taking the Gem of Amara to Angel. 

Oz had volunteered since he was heading that way and Willow decided to go along to see her boyfriend play and she secretly wanted to make sure Angel didn't get too happy about the little treasure she had in her pocket. 

“Should we stop and get something to eat to now?” she asked, hunger flirting with her. 

“If you want, but we'll be in LA in two hours so I can wait if you can.” Oz was creeped out and really wanted to stay on the move. He had a bad feeling about the item they were carrying and he wished he'd kept his mouth shut, but it was too late for regrets now and they were stuck, on a mission of sorts. 

The redhead was about to answer him, a vote for food on the tip of her tongue, when a single headlight approaching on their side of the road snagged her attention. She lifted a pale hand, pointing. 

“Hey, what's that?” 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He waited on the side of the road, smoking, watching for the wolf's van. He'd spied on them from outside the watcher's apartment, delighted to hear that the slayer was relinquishing possession of his ring to the wolf and the witch. 

Formulating a plan quickly, he got a head start on the couple and parked the Desoto in a small town about twenty miles outside of Sunnydale. He then _borrowed_ a motorcycle and headed back toward Sunnydale for about five miles, pulled off to the side and waited, lights off. 

Forty minutes and three cigarettes later the huge van passed him. He pulled out and caught up, passing them easily and quickly, disappearing over a small hill on the two lane highway. When he had gone far enough, he spun the bike around, grinning madly as he headed straight for his unsuspecting victims. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Is that? A…motorcycle coming at us?” Frowning, Oz slowed some, but he wasn't sure if the rider was on his side, thinking that the road may curve a bit.

Soon it was upon them and too late he realized that it was indeed on his side of the road. He breaked hard and swerved to the left in a futile attempt to avoid the oncoming vehicle. 

“Oh no…God no!” Willow gasped, seeing what the real danger was. 

Spike, a feral grin to match his manic mood, raised up from the bike as he turned the handlebars. He leaped off, and his forward momentum and vampiric strength sent him running along the roof and over the van just as it hit the smaller object. 

Willow whispered a protection spell for her and Oz, grabbing his hand as the van, screeched and tilted, skidding on its side a few feet before flipping completely and rolling, the redhead screaming the lasts words of the spell. 

Eventually they stopped, upside-down, the van rocking slightly.

“Willow!” The guitarist pulled at her, horrified at the blood coming from her nose and dripping up her face. “Are you hurt?” He released his seatbelt and fell on his head, the metal outraged at this further abuse. 

“I'm fine, Oz. You okay?” She unbuckled her own belt, but held onto the door and braced her arm over her head to help ease her fall. 

“Yeah. Wanna tell me what that was?” 

“That… was Spike,” she said flatly, wiping her nose, suddenly remembering the danger they were still in. “We've got to get out of here. He's still out there and…” 

Oz pushed his door open and hopped out, reaching back in to help his girlfriend. “Come on. I think there's a town a few miles up.” 

“Not like it's gonna do any good to run.” Willow had stopped and was looking to her right. Oz followed her gaze and got his first glimpse of the vampire responsible for all this trouble. And the possible totaling of his van. 

He was without the leather coat, which was new to Willow since she'd always seen him in it, but otherwise it was Spike. 

“Well, children, sorry to ruin your party bus, but you have a little bauble of mine and I came to collect.” He sauntered closer, his thumbs hooked in his belt loops and Oz felt something in him trigger, and growled deep inside, instinctive. Hearing it, Spike smiled and sucked on a canine, unconcerned. “Your slayer is a thief, stealing from hard working vamps like myself.” 

“Spike…I don't know what you're talking about. O-oz is in a band, they're playing in L.A.,” Willow lied, terribly. 

“Save it, witch. I was _there_ … at the Watcher's. If you keep fibbing, you'll make me think you don't like me, pet. And after all the fun we had last year.” He paced a bit, wanting a smoke, but he was fresh out since the ones that were in his jeans got crushed when he tumbled into the brushes. 

“What fun? There was no FUN!” Turning to her boyfriend, “Oz, there was no fun.” The last thing she needed was more problems in their relationship. “Spike, stop that!” She scowled. 

The demon smirked. “Well, I had fun, Red. And you still smell fantastic, even from here. Just makes me want to…” He took a step toward them.

“Hey, Spike, we don't have it. We left it with Buffy and forgot to pick it up…so…” Oz tried his hand at lying and while he was remarkably better than his girl, he still sucked. 

“Don't believe we've met, mate, but you must be Red's adoring mongrel.” 

The guitarist didn't rise to the bait. 

“Look…I'll cut you a deal. I'll count to three, witch. Either produce my bloody ring or I'm snapping the dog's neck. Then I'm taking you like I should have done in the factory. One…two…” 

Willow grabbed Oz's hand and turned to run which truly tickled the vampire. But a car was coming, and he found that a little less funny. He took a few steps in pursuit as he heard the girl mumble something. He was gaining on them quickly when a wall of transparent, goo-like air impeded his progress, slowing him to barely moving at all. 

“Hey...What's this, then?” he inquired, fingers with black laquered nails prodding and testing the thick environment. 

Arms flailing wildly, Willow flagged down the passing car and the driver stopped, assuming someone was injured from the accident. 

“Do you need to call 911? You guys alright?” They slid inside quickly while he asked, concern etched in his features.

The redhead was in the backseat, her knees sinking in the seat cushion as she peered warily through the rear window at Spike while trying to maintain the spell.

“No… Yes! No… please just go. That guy…” Willow stammered. 

The driver glanced at the vampire who, now frustrated at losing his prey, was in demon visage and snarling after them. 

“What the fuck…That's no guy!” the man yelped.

Oz looked at their unlikely savior in the baby blue Honda Civic and stated evenly. “You're not wrong…now is a good time to go though.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

Once the thickening spell dissipated, Spike sprinted after them, the taillights still visible. It was only a few miles to the town ahead and he knew he could keep up and catch up with them, but what was the point. They had to stop, calling for a tow at least, so he would catch them soon enough. And if they didn't stop he would still track them down. So he ran briskly, but not with demonic intent and arrived in the town ten minutes later. 

It was a travelers town, built and existing mostly to service the many drivers that passed though. The obligatory cheap motels dotted the main street, wider that it needed to be to accomodate the truckers that came through, and a busy eating establishment sat somewhere near the middle of the strip.

Spike passed the parking lot where the Desoto still sat, dark and menacing, turning his attention to the coffee shop where a blue Honda, suspiciously familiar, was parked. The vampire approached unnoticed by anyone on the streets, shadows swallowing his presence on command. His senses told him that the car was empty so he made his way to a window of the shop just as the driver, dubbed Johnny Do-Good, came out and got back in his auto. He sped away, having done his good deed for the day and feeling infinitely better for it, the vampire assumed. But he could smell them, the delicious scent of the witch and the stench of her wolf intermingling and becoming muted by the intense odors of human food, but discernible nonetheless. He smiled. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Did you reach Buffy or Giles?” Oz asked as the redhead returned to the table and flopped into the booth.

“Yeah, Giles. Buffy's out patrolling. He's gonna page her and then they'll come here.” Reaching in her pocket, she removed the troublesome object and sat down, playing with it on the table. “Funny…This little piece of jewelry will make that vampire the most terrifying thing in the world. Not that he ain't plenty scary all on his own.” She sighed and handed it to Oz. He didn't want to look at it and tucked it in one of his many zippered pockets, safe for now. 

“Is he still stuck?” 

“Doubt it. The spell wasn't that strong.” She slouched down, resting her chin on the table, and pouted. 

“But it was a pretty cool spell. And it worked so… hey!” He attempted to cheer her and she smiled, turning her head as he leaned down to kiss her. “Everything will be okay. They'll be here soon, alright?” 

Nodding, she sat up straighter and they kissed again, the confining space in the booth not allowing them to embrace, but it was good, full of hope and trust and passion and just a hint of sadness that taints all things Sunnydale. She didn't want it to end, but felt self-conscious in such a public place. 

She opened her eyes and screeched at seeing the bleached blond vampire sitting across the table on the other side of their booth, blue eyes glinting with amusement and something darker that made her stomach twist.

“Oh my God…” She whispered as Oz did his best to shield her from the danger in front of them. 

“Please go on. I do like to watch.” He smiled and lit a cigarette, a momento from his latest snack outside the diner. The couple stared at him, in disbelief. 

“Uh…Spike…You can't smoke in here,” she advised him quietly.

This girl was absolutely astounding to him, or insane was probably a safer bet, and he grinned. “So, luv, who here do you think will stop me?” He dragged on the cigarette again, blowing the smoke in Oz's face. “Your pup? These people?” He waved a hand around lazily, smirking as Oz glared. 

“Please, just let us go.” 

“I'd be more than happy to leave you and your beloved alone…just give me the ring and I'll be on my merry way.” He actually meant it. There was an eternity at his disposal. He could return and screw with the slayer and her crew any time. 

“We told you we don't have it!” She raised her voice, regretting it immediately as Oz groaned in pain. 

Spike's free hand was under the table, his powerful grip threatening to crush the bone in the werewolf's knee. To Oz, the gleeful smile Spike wore was more unsettling than the pain. Through it all, he continued to smoke. Meeting the vampire's hateful gaze, Oz mind raced, desperate to find out way out for Willow. 

“You _idiots_ plan to give the bloody ring to Angelus. I heard Slutty the slayer tell you to take it to him.” He added more pressure, feeling a little giddy as the bone gave way to his will. The boy cried out, his hands pushing at the blond's ineffectively. “Now has anyone thought that one through? Cause I bloody well have… and if Angelus loses his pesky little soul, that ring will stop you from cursing him again, witch. And who do you think he's coming after first?” 

“You?” Her voice was small which made her angry, but this was Spike so she felt justified in her terror. 

“Well, yeah… but then it will be you, Red, for cursing him again. And there won't be a thing your demon murdering friend can do.” 

He paused to let that sink in, dropping the half-finished cigarette to the floor. He knew they were lying and had the ring, but it might be back in the van or on their persons. He wasn't certain enough to kill them and just look for it himself. 

“I, on the other hand, am a reasonably evil demon.” With his now free hand he caressed Willow's slender fingers, chuckling as the guitarist opted to let the vampire torture his knee without protest and used his hands to free his girl's from the demon's clutches. 

“Don't touch her!” Oz pushed her further behind him, which wasn't easy, and wished that he could change into the wolf at will. He immediately dismissed that thought, knowing he would go after everyone, including Willow, in that mindless, animalistic state. 

The vampire gasped, feigning fear, and blew Willow a kiss before continuing. “I have no grand plans for world domination or sending everyone to hell. And just how unoriginal and bloody well stupid was that?... I just want to go to a soddin' Manchester United game during the day sometimes. Kill the slayer. Get a bloody tan! So… give me my ring or I snap his leg off at the bend.” His voice was deep, deadly. Spike was out of patience and Buffy and Giles would not get there in time to save them. 

“Alright Spike,” Willow was calm and hushed Oz as he protested. “We have to go back. To the van.” She planned to stall for more time, and hopefully run into Giles and Buffy while out there. 

“Well, come on then, Red.” Willow slid out of the booth with Oz behind her. They never saw it coming as the vampire slammed an iron fist into the boy's face, an awful crunch, sending him sailing into the wall a few feet away, blood leaking from his unconscious form. Willow screamed, hitting the demon with her tiny fists as he laughed. 

“What?” he asked incredulously, grabbing her wrists, his face inches from hers. “You thought I was gonna sit here while you two went? Or wait…we all go prancing back there and pick through the wreckage until the slayer arrives?” 

She shook her head violently, denying her apparently transparent plan while he dragged her over to the boy slumped on the floor. The place was quiet, stunned into silence by the scene playing out before them. 

“Now, where is _my ring_?” he roared, placing his heavy black boot over Oz's neck, tired of the game, ready to crush him and move on. 

“No! No! Okay…I gave it to Oz. He put it in one of his pockets.” She was crying and several of the men and the cook began to surround them quietly, preparing to take the blond man down. 

“Get it.” He watched her lean over her boyfriend, sensing the stupid humans around him. 

Willow dug into pocket after pocket, sickeningly aware of the boot precariously balanced over Oz's neck. She vigorously wiped at the hot tears that clouded her vision and impeded her search. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was cognizant of Spike talking to someone. 

“…none of your business, mate, so bugger off.” He told the big greasy trucker who insisted he release the young couple. Spike waited. The trucker was inching toward him and would soon be within his reach so that he did not have to move his foot from the mongrel's neck. The others were not as bold yet, but he would not dismiss them. Sometimes humans got the notion that there was strength in numbers. 

“Come on, buddy. She's just a little girl.” He tried reasoning, taking another small step in the blond's direction. 

“Yes, she is," he remarked, waiting. 

“So why all the fuss, man?” Another step. 

Bingo… “Not a man," Spike mumbled as he reached out with preternatural speed, clutching his long pale fingers around the thick neck, crushing bone and flesh, delighting in the gurgling sound as his victim struggled for air that would never come. Blood bubbled from his shocked mouth, so sure he was that he could pummel the smaller man threatening the young couple. Spike shoved him away unconcerned and snatched Willow by her hair to stop her screaming. He glared around at the other would be heroes. 

“Anyone else want a go?” The others didn't move closer and a few sat back down as Spike's sensitive ears picked up on a siren in the distance, no doubt coming for him. He could take on a few cops, but was not in the mood to nurse the bullet wounds right now, especially since he might encounter the slayer before he healed. 

“The ring, Red!” he growled, wrenching her head again. 

“I… I can't find it," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face, hands flying up to get him to release her hair. She gazed at Oz's bruised features, vision blurred, her anguish increasing as she realized that he may die, she may die, over a stupid ring. 

Spike snarled, tightening his grip on her thick red tresses and began dragging her out of the door. The sirens were still too far away for the humans to hear, but help would arrive within a few minutes and he planned to be long gone. 

Willow screamed and tried to free herself, only to have him lock his strong arms around her as he carried her out the door. There were a few men still too uncomfortable with what was happening to just let the man abduct the girl and they came running out behind them, one latching onto Spike's arm, spinning him. The vampire responded by releasing Willow just enough to embrace her with his left arm, smashing her ribs in his attempt to keep her still and snatching the man by the back of his neck, pulling him close as he changed faces and ripped into the tender flesh of his neck. He drank very little and changed back quickly, dropping the interfering fool, watching intently as he drowned in his own blood. 

The blood had sprayed over the redhead, increasing her wailing, and Spike strolled off, unbothered and undeterred, with the hyperventilating witch by his side.


	3. Chapter 3

 

The police were taping off a crime scene when Buffy and Giles arrived at the coffee shop. They had stopped where they saw the overturned van, checking it out briefly before moving on. On the way, Giles called his emergency road service to have the vehicle brought to his apartment. 

The small blonde girl, observing the chaos around them, rushed to the door, only to be blocked by a 250 pound highway patrol officer. 

“This is a crime scene, Miss. Please step back behind the tape.” 

“But my friends, they…what happened here?” She bounced from foot to foot, restraining herself. 

“I really can't discuss…” he started the usual speech. 

“Please, they are in there. My friends are in there. Are they okay? A girl, green eyes, red hair, and short guy with… ohhhh…what color is Oz's hair today? I think it's black.” 

The officer was previously uninterested in the young woman, but when she mentioned the red hair he gave her his full attention. Didn't the witnesses describe the woman that was abducted as a redhead? He put a hand up to stop her rambling. 

“Hold on, alright?” He spoke into a small communication device that was somehow attached to his jacket near his shoulder, repeating some of Buffy's words to the man on the other end. “I'll do that,” he finished and turned back to the slayer, this time with a sad smile on his huge face. “Please wait here. The sergeant needs to speak to you.” 

Buffy faced Giles, who simply hugged her while they waited. 

A younger, and much more physically fit officer approached, exchanging a few quiet words with the first officer, who must have been Hadley according to his badge, before greeting them. 

“Hello Miss, I am Sergeant Phillips.” He extended his hand, shaking Buffy's, then Giles' firmly. “You were telling Officer Hadley about your friends in the diner?” 

“Yes. Please what happened? Are they okay?” Her patience was wearing thin, but she needed his cooperation for now, so she played along, instead of knocking him out and going in to see for herself. 

“Well, here is the situation. A young couple, female red hair, male black hair, about 18 to 20 years old, were seated in the diner, when another male, blond, about 25 or 30, joined them. At some point the blond male struck the other male and continued to threaten the couple. A customer tried to intervene and was killed by the blond male. He took the female from the premises, killing another would-be rescuer, and they are now both missing.” 

“Oh God…Willow…Giles, he has Willow.” She was shaking, fear for her friend overwhelming, her voice tiny and strained. 

The ex-watcher took over for his charge. “The redhead is our friend, Willow Rosenberg. What happened to the boy? Oz?” 

The sergeant was writing and looked up at Giles. “He was taken to Sunnydale General. It didn't look to serious, a concussion maybe, and a nasty gash, but the EMTs were able to stop the bleeding…Do you know why they were here and who the blond is?” 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Spike paced the length of the motel room again. Earlier, he had punched Willow when she would not stop crying for Oz, and she was still in that injury-induced sleep. Now, he wanted her to wake up so he could call what he considered a bitch of a slayer and arrange to get the ring back. It wasn't his original plan, but it was workable. 

The room was relatively nice, with cable TV and a minibar, and since the sun was rising soon, he prepared himself for a long day trapped inside with the redhead. He surfed a while, settling on a channel that specialized in old TV shows. The one currently on involved a horse that talked, which he remembered from about 40 years ago. It cracked him up then, and amazingly, did so now as well. 

Another hour of shows passed before he noticed signs of the human waking: heart rate increase, breathing changes, tension ebbing back into the limbs. He continued to watch the television while she went through the process of returning to consciousness. 

Eventually a low moan escaped her, the pain in her head and face hitting her much like Spike's fist. 

“Owww, Gods…hurts,” she complained, her back still facing the vampire. She rolled, careful of her injuries, onto her back, jumping slightly and then wincing at the new pain the motion invoked. “Spike…great.” She sighed and closed her eyes again, wondering why she decided to come with Oz at all. She cursed her rotten luck and snuck a sideways glance at the demon responsible for her massive headache. 

“I don't have it, you know.” She stared at the ceiling fan above them. 

He didn't look at her, but turned the volume down a few notches since it appeared she was ready to talk instead of scream incoherently. “Yeah, I know.” 

“You killed them.” There was a hard edge to her voice as she thought about the men who had tried to help her and died for their efforts. 

“As I will kill anyone else who gets in my way, luv.” The program went off and previews of the next show revealed one he never enjoyed, so he began channel surfing again, waiting for her to unknowingly tell him more about herself. 

She scooted into a sitting position, eyes focused on the television as well. It was safer to look there than at the vampire. She was not a stupid girl, and knew he was evaluating everything she did in order to use it to his advantage later. So she would hide her true self from him and hoped it would keep him off balance a little. Part of her wondered why she bothered. In the end, he would use her and drain her when done. While another part fought for her existence, willing to try anything if it meant survival. 

“Where are we?” 

“We are exactly where I want us to be, but if you need the details, WE are just outside of Las Vegas.” He tuned into the rapid increase in heartbeat. She was terrified. 

“Vegas?!” 

“What's wrong, Red? Afraid the slayer won't find you here?” He chuckled, gasping at her angry face. 

He picked up a tiny cell phone, flipped it open and looked at the redhead, expectantly. She only stared back, almost amused by the centuries old vampire's ease with modern technology, before returning to the relatively safe sights on the TV. 

He rolled his eyes. “The number…The slayer's or that daft watcher of hers?” 

“Why?” 

“So the bitch can get me my ring!” He growled. 

“Why do you want it so badly?” She forced herself not to cringe. 

“True immortality, pet. Nothing beats it.” 

“Seems like it would get boring after a while.” 

“I can show you. See for yourself how unboring it can be.” 

“No! No, thanks. I'm fine with the good old fashioned mortality.” 

“So you're ready to die then?” 

“I never said that so no ideas, okay?” She marveled at the oddity, having a conversation with Spike, William the Bloody, her mortal enemy, as if they were friends. She let her thoughts fall to that day when he wanted her to cast the love spell, how he told her they were going to be best friends. 

Once she stopped being an emotional wreck, the demon noticed that the girl had quite a backbone. Spike studied her, the thoughts easily readable as they flitted across her expressive face. Her green eyes would be her undoing, as they told too much, and the vampire soaked in all he surveyed. He'd already made the decision to torture and kill her when this was over and he had what he wanted, but now the redhead was proving to be a bit more intriguing than expected which put a small kink in his plan. 

“Alright, witch…just give me the number.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

Spike was surprised. For a group that claimed to take care of its own, they were certainly hard to track down. He dialed the numbers Willow called out to him for Giles and Buffy, but there was no answer at either one. Although, he did leave a voicemail saying hello to Joyce, which he knew would enrage super Barbie. 

Now he was dialing the watcher's cell phone number and waited as it rang. 

“Yes, Hello.” 

“Watcher.” 

“Who is this?” Spike could actually hear his heartbeat though the phone. 

“I have your witch and you have my ring. So what say we make an exchange?” 

“Spike…if you…” 

The vampire could hear rustling in the background, the watcher grunting and the slayer apparently reaching for the phone. Spike listened to their struggle, amused. Willow watched him, wary of what he could find funny. 

Finally, a winner prevailed and the conversation continued. “Now Spike," It was Giles. "If you hurt Willow, you'll never see that ring.” 

“If I don't get that ring, the next time you see your witch she'll be like me.” Willow shrank away, eyes wide. 

Silence, then a defeated sigh. 

“How do we know she's even alive, Spike?” 

Rolling his eyes, Spike tossed the phone to the girl sitting next to him on the bed. 

“They think you're dead already, like I pulled his number out of a bloody hat. You talk.” 

She put the phone to her ear hesitantly, sure it was a trick. “Giles?” Her voice broke at the sigh of relief from the older man. 

“Willow! Are you okay…Wait just a minute, Buffy…Willow please tell us where you are.” 

She knew that the vampire would do something terrible if she gave away their location, so she avoided answering. “I'm okay, Giles. Oz…. He…did you see him at the coffee shop?” 

“Oz is at Sunnydale General and okay. He has a concussion and a fractured jaw, but thankfully, will live. Spike must not have wanted him dead.” 

“No, I guess he didn't.” After all, how could he threaten her if Oz was already dead? “Oz has the ring, Giles. In a pocket. Just give it to him…” 

Spike took the phone from Willow and listened. “We cannot give that sadistic animal the ring. He will wreak unimaginable havoc on innocent people, Willow. Now just listen. I know he is right there so I want you to answer yes or no. Do you know where you are?” 

“Yes, she does.” Spike replied, hearing the man swear under his breath. “Are you thinking about rescuing Red?” 

“Well… yes, that's generally how we do things.” 

“Huh…” He was silent for a few seconds, thoughtful, before speaking again. “You will get the ring from Jo-Jo the dog-faced boy. I'm calling back at sundown, you better have it or I may get hungry.” 

“Where should we…” Giles found himself talking into a dead line. He glanced at his slayer who was glaring at him. “Oz has the ring. He have to go back to the hospital, check his clothes.” 

“Is she okay?” 

“Yes, for now,” he sighed.

“But…” 

“But if we don't get the ring by sundown…” 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Now that was a bit of fun. You know these phones are amazing. I can hear his pulse slamming as if he were right in front of a bloke.” He grinned, his fangs itching from the thought of slicing into the watcher's neck and ripping him open. 

He blabbered on at the redhead as she tried to block him out. He was a subject jumper, she'd discovered, prone to let his mouth wander from topic to topic as soon as the thought entered his brain. When it was clear that he was not shutting up soon, Willow allowed herself to be dragged into the conversation. Once she actually listened to him, she determined that there was a reason behind the madness he spoke as he bounced from place to place, his brain on fast forward, idea after idea popping in and making itself at home. Spike was ADHD. It was an amazing revelation, one she would share with Giles as soon as she got back home, if she got back home. And she also learned he was rather intelligent, well-versed on a variety of topics with a working knowledge of computers. 

At some point he pulled a laptop and cords out of a bag. Willow was stunned. Angel was not the modern vampire at all, uncomfortable with anything new. Spike was younger, but still nearly two hundred and she just did not expect this out of the blond demon who was currently hooking up to the dataline. 

Her own curiosity replaced the residual fear she had about becoming a snack if Giles and Buffy did not produce the ring so she walked over to where he sat at the small table, tapping away, his long pale fingers not unfamiliar with the keyboard. 

“Oh, a Dell.” 

“What's that?” He didn't look up. 

“The laptop…A Dell. Mine is a Mac.” 

“Well, since I own stock in Dell, might as well help myself make money. ‘Sides, never did like the operating system for Apple.” He was checking his email. She snorted, immediately trying to stifle it when he glared up at her, annoyed. 

“What?”

“Nothing…um…So you…like, own stock?” 

“Well, yeah. Can't finance all my little projects by killing. Most people just don't have that much on them, and while the concept is tempting, I'd have to kill too many to get a fraction of what I make in investments. Some things are a bit expensive. ‘Specially nowadays, pet.” He stopped and looked up at her, his blue eyes sparking with mirth and she could not be sure if he was telling the truth. 

“Oh. So… whatcha doing now?” 

“That,” he turned back to his email, “is none of your business. But I'm mostly trying not to kill you.” His voice was deep and threatening, and he savored the perfume of fear emanating from her again. “Use the cell and order up some Chinese, and nothing with garlic. There's a menu on the desk.” 

She quietly moved to get the menu and sat on the bed to decide, making sure to exclude all things garlicy.


	5. Chapter 5

 

“So, where are your clothes?” Buffy was on her knees, pulling items out of the tiny wardrobe in the room, but had yet to see the clothes that the werewolf was wearing the previous night. 

“Mmmfs wff mmm mmdeh.” 

“What?” Giles could not understand him with the wiring in his jaw. He took out a pen and a small got a napkin from the young man's lunch tray, which consisted of a yummy blend of green, and an equally yummy blend of cream, both with their own commemorative straws. 

Oz took the pen and wrote out what he was unable to say. 

“It's with your…oh, your mother! She took them home?” Oz nodded enthusiastically at first, then winced from the effort. 

Buffy jumped up from the wardrobe. “Tell me she's not gonna wash them!” 

Oz nodded again, trying to speak until Giles pointed to the napkin. He wrote his address and number down. The slayer snatched it up immediately and ran out the door, calling over her shoulder. 

“Come on, Giles. She can't loose that ring!” 

 

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“Hey! You took both fortune cookies!” Spike complain, outraged that he was not going to get to read about his ridiculous future. 

Willow laughed. She'd been doing that a lot, pleasantly surprised by the vampire's sharp sense of humor. At first, she took everything he said at face value, but soon learned that sarcasm was a favorite pastime of the demon's and began to relax more in his presence. 

“Well, it's not like you didn't eat the delivery boy and not offer me any, so I claim the cookies.” She tried a pout, but it curled into a smile on its own. He really didn't consume the young college student bent on helping the world in its quest for good sesame chicken, only threatened to if she cried out when he arrived. She was pretty sure that was not sarcasm. And she was positive he would not share. 

“Is there anymore of your sweet and sour then?” He needed a sugar fix. No blood anytime soon and now that she brought it up, he regretted not eating that delivery boy. 

She quickly stuffed the last bite into her mouth. “Nhompe…” Her green eyes were wide as she chewed. A growl rumbled from across the room. Spike got up, his form graceful and sinewy, and looked out the window, which was now getting indirect sunlight. He spotted a candy machine downstairs across the parking lot on the other side of the U which was the motel, but there was about a 50 foot section of all sun that he had to pass through to get to it, and the chocolaty goodness that awaited. 

He had a serious dilemma. It was not that serious, but to a demon like Spike who never waited for anything he wanted, it was damn near cataclysmic. He needed blood, but would live. He wanted chocolate, but would live as well. The girl was here, sweet and filled with blood, just waiting to be drained. 

“Oh Red?” he called, and she stiffened at the feigned innocence in his tone. “Come over here, luv.” She almost didn't move, nearly mistaking their light conversation earlier for something more, but she left the coveted cookies and went to him. 

“Y-yes, Spike.” 

“Over there, by the office, see it? A candy machine.” 

“Uh-huh…” 

“Why don't you go over there and fetch us a few bars? As long as you get me two Hershey bars, and no bloody almonds.” He handed her a 10 dollar bill. “As much as this'll get us, pet.” 

“Okay Spike.” She started for the door, but felt iron-like hands grab her and slam her against the wall next to the window. 

“Red, I can't go into the sunshine... for long... but I'm old enough and strong enough that I can go in for as long as it takes to catch you and break your pretty little neck. Or better yet, feed from you to heal the burns I'd acquire. Keep you alive for a while to play games.” He sniffed at her neck, snarling. “Do you like to play games, Red? 

“L-like Monopoly?” 

He smiled at her, and she thought it was the first real smile she'd seen on his face, reaching his blue eyes. “Sure…Monopoly.” Gesturing toward the door, he stepped back. “Go on, then. Bring us back some goodies. I'll be watching.”

 

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“Geez, for once, luck is with us.” Buffy exclaimed, passing the ring to her former watcher. “Are we really gonna give this to that menace, Giles.” 

“I don't see how we have a choice. He'll kill her if we don't produce this. Or worse.” He held it up to the sunlight, squinting. “We'll just have to devise a plan to get it back after we have Willow.” 

She walked ahead of him and got into the passenger seat of his car. If Spike got his hands on the ring he would have an all access pass to kill. But would he make constant use of it, she wondered? He was not like the other vampires and seemed to want to have fun more than anything else. She was just not too keen on his brand of fun. He told her that end of the world missions were not his style and he did help her stop Angelus. The ring, giving it to him, would condemn so many innocents and free her best friend, and as wrong as it was, she was going to do whatever she had to do to get Willow back, even if it meant giving him what he wanted. 

 

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“I can't believe you ate all that candy! You eat a lot for a vampire.” He just looked at her. “I mean food…You eat a lot of food.” 

“Seems I kept a proclivity for sweets. Me mum used to bake for me everyday. That's what I miss most about her.” 

“Oh…What happened to her?” She ripped open her M&Ms bag and started munching. 

“I killed her, turned her. Didn't work out so I staked her.” His tone was nonchalant and Willow paled. Again she had let her guard down and again he reminded her that she was dealing with a demon. No conscious, no remorse. “Sod it all…I'm out. What do you have left?” 

Her thoughts were swirling. She could not wrap her mind around him, confused. One moment he spoke of death as if it was a football score, the next he was giving her puppy eyes and begging for candy. It was plain that either she was insane or he. 

“I…I have another bag of M&Ms, plain, an Almond Joy and a Snickers. And these… Starburst.” He grabbed the M&Ms and went back to the bed. 

“Hate nuts, hate fruity flavors,” he mumbled. Willow wondered if there was a psychological undercurrent there, but wisely left it alone. 

He flipped through the channels, not staying on any one channel long enough to know what was playing. After his forth rotation he tossed the remote, clearly agitated. 

Willow snuck a sideways glance to find him staring at her. She quickly looked away, tying to focus her attention on the television, but there was nothing of real interest on since he happened to stop on some fly fishing cable access network. 

When she chanced another look he was still watching her, that intense glare disturbing and invasive. 

“What?!” she asked finally. 

He continued staring, not blinking, the only indication that he'd heard her was in his eyes which now alternated between the gold of his demon and the human's blue. The weight of his stare became too much and she rose, headed for the bathroom. 

“Come here, pet.” He patted the mattress and although he was still in human face, his canines were just a little longer than she remembered. 

“Umm, I…uh, need to go to… you know.” She nodded toward the bathroom door. 

“Are you scared?” 

“Huh?” 

“I smell fear, just rolling off your sweet little body in waves. Wasn't there a moment ago. So does the need to…pee…scare you?” He sucked on one of those exceptionally long canines, his head tilted. 

“What? No… I just…why are you staring at me like that?” 

“Come here, pet,” he repeated. This time it broached no discussion. 

She sat on the edge, as far from him as possible. He chuckled and pulled her close so that she was right next to him. 

“I'm sleepy and don't trust you.” The redhead's mouth opened and closed like a fish, indignant. “What? You won't run as soon as you think I'm asleep?” He raised a brow and tugged on her until she was effectively spooned by the blond demon. His pale, strong arms encircled her, a leg tossed over hers to insure her immobility. She was stiff and petrified as Spike nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent and falling asleep while his demon screamed at him to taste her.


	6. Chapter 6

Willow dreamed. She was with Oz and they were at the fair. The lines to all the rides were long, and the waiting was nothing short of a trying time in the dry southern California heat. She swept her hair from her neck, wiping at the irritating sweat gathered, and looked to her boyfriend, her eyes pleading. He was dripping as well, saw her discomfort and led her to a mound of grass with a tree in the center. As soon as she hit the shade she was cooled, immediately and completely. She watched all the people passing by on their way to or from a ride or exhibit, sweat a common denominator for them all. But she cooled. 

Lifting her hair again, the new crisp air caressed her, sending a shiver down her spine. Then she felt Oz behind her, nuzzling her neck, peppering her there with soft kisses. He reached around as if to touch her breast, but detoured south and slid a cool hand beneath her waistband, playing with the soft curls he found there. 

She moaned, oblivious to the crowds passing, and rotated her hips to encourage him. Encourage him it did as he slipped two fingers into her. 

It was the twinge of pain that first concerned the redhead. Her neck, where her boyfriend was quietly nibbling, was sore, although every suck seemed to send a bolt of desire to her center, and she was reluctant to interrupt him since it felt incredible. She whimpered as she felt his teeth against her and reached back, touching his hair, slicked and slightly hard from the gel. She wondered at that since Oz's hair was always spikey. 

“Your hair? What did you do?” she managed breathlessly. 

The sucking stopped and she heard a low growl as she was shoved away to the other side of the bed. She opened her eyes, turning slowly. 

He was still in demon face, with blood, her blood dripping from his teeth. To his credit he looked just as perplexed as the young witch, if not more. 

She put a finger to the place where it throbbed, coming away with blood as she trembled. Tears sprung from her eyes as she realized that she might have died, drained by the blond homicidal maniac blinking at her innocently. 

“Spike…” She tried to get up on shaking legs, weak and still disoriented, but sank back on the mattress. Spike remained still, not understanding how he let his demon get out of control, feeding on her in his sleep. 

He remembered being very hungry. Healing from the aftermath of his encounter with the slayer the previous day had taken a lot out of him and he'd had no sleep nor fed properly for nearly 48 hours. He cursed his stupidity for not feeding before they arrived, but he had no time as the sun was right behind them. 

“Your face… your still all grr.” The golden eyes of the demon watched her constantly, unfathomable. 

“Oh, sorry.” He changed for her and got up, lighting a smoke. Truth be told, he was not sorry or anything close to it. He'd wanted to bite her for hours, since last year actually. He ran his tongue over his lips, capturing her taste, savoring it. She was delicious and he decided that he would eventually have more of her. Much more. 

The sun was gone, neither having noticed at first, but the fact dawning on both of them now. He unplugged the phone, gathered it and his cell phone, turning to the redhead who was still in shock. 

“I'm going out. Don't move from this room, Red.” The voice was so commanding that she began shaking as the door closed behind him. 

Willow chastised herself, for everything she had done so far that was stupid: talking with him, laughing with him, and sleeping with him. 

 

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Despite waiting for it, Buffy jumped at sound of the cell phone. This time she got to it before Giles, who was presently in the restroom. 

“Hello?” she exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loudly. 

“Slayer. How are you? We haven't spoken since, gosh, I so generously provided you with a little love-life counseling. Now be honest…you've missed me.” The vampire could barely contain his glee at infuriating his favorite nemesis. 

“Like a pimple on my ass, Spike. Now where's Willow. I want to speak to her now!” 

“Sorry. Not part of the program this time. But you can tell me if you have a prezzie for me, it being my birthday and all.” 

“We have it...and I'll bite. Your birthday??” 

“Oh yeah, 196 years ago ‘twas the day your beloved murdered me and made me his. Best thing that ever happened to me, and him, really. Although he denies it now.” His cackle sent a chill down her spine and she wondered if Drusilla was really the crazy one. 

“There's no deal if I don't talk to her.” 

“Look, you daft bint, I hold all the cards and you hold none, unless you don't care about getting your friend back in one piece. I can send her back to you a bit at a time if you like. Your choice, slayer.” 

There was silence on the other end for nearly a minute and Spike could picture her seething with anger. As it was, her pulse was racing, enticing his demon. _I love these bloody phones!_

“Fine. What do we do?” 

“I'll ring you tomorrow.” He hung up. 

Giles was still in the bathroom, the shower still running. She tried to strategize, but was unable to begin a feasible plan until she knew what the vampire wanted them to do. Obviously, they would meet somewhere to make the exchange, but the particulars were unknown to her, just as Spike wanted. He would keep her in the dark until she had little time to come up with a plan of action. Roused from her musings by the absence of the sound of running water, she headed for the bathroom door to let Giles know about the latest call. 

 

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His frown as he stood at the door of the motel room was a grossly understated indicator of the anger he was experiencing. Here he had left the chit untied and ungagged, gotten her a bit to eat, not killed or tortured her, which his demon was begging him to do, and this was his thanks. An empty room. He did not need to open the door to know she was gone. He could sense no heartbeat. He opened it anyway, just in case she was dead, and found he was right. He dropped the items on the table and went back outside. He walked and sniffed the air, cursing softly when he picked up her scent and it led to the front office. She was there, dialing. 

“I'll send maintenance up to your room to fix the phone,” the clerk offered. 

“No! No… It's okay. He…I…We have a cell, my…husband just took it with him and I need to uh…call him now." 

“Sure, but we need to fix the phone. Not up to code, you know how it is.” She nodded, but actually did not know or care how it was - she just knew that he could not send anyone up to the room. As she dialed, she felt like she would explode from fear. She had waited a while to be sure he was really gone, not lurking somewhere close, waiting for her to betray him. And now she was afraid she'd waited too long and he would be back soon. She had no idea where he went, but suspected it was to hunt. A pale finger with black nail polish crept into her view as it hung up the phone on the first ring. 

“Oh God! Spike! Oh…I was just… I'm sorry, please don't, please don't.” She had no clue what he was thinking, his face was a stony mask, unreadable. Her hands shook as she clutched at her chest. “Spike…” she pleaded, backing away slowly. 

The clerk observed the exchange with considerable interest, noting the young woman's fear of the man. 

“Miss? Is everything alright? Is this your husband?” 

“Uhhh… yes.” She couldn't take her eyes off of the blond. Still, he remained silent, only the clenching of his jaw giving away the fact that he was hearing anything at all. “I'd better go now.” She took a hesitant step forward. 

“Are you okay? You need me to call anyone?” He walked around the counter, getting between her and the vampire, his bulk impressive. 

“'S too bad that you couldn't just sit tight. But since we have a few hours to kill…” He whirled quickly on the clerk. “Ring your boss, mate.” 

“Excuse me…” 

“Pick up the bleedin' phone and call your boss. You will tell him you're feeling ill.” 

The man just stood there as if he did not comprehend, so Spike did what any self respecting demon would do. He vamped out. 

The clerk nearly tripped over his feet as he ran back behind the desk, screeching. 

“Stop that nancy-boy screaming, mate. I have very sensitive ears. And make the call.” 

“Oh God….” He mumbled prayers and curses and cried in between, and had to actually hold one hand with the other in order to dial, he was so shaken. 

Willow did not miss the fact that the blond still said nothing to her and had barely looked at her after his initial visual assault. She knew that she was in trouble and so was this man. Spike was going to kill him if she didn't do something quickly. But she was at a loss, so she stood, terrified as the scene played out. 

The man, who she discovered was Lenny, called Stewart and asked him to come in as soon as he could to cover for him. He was sick and had to leave. To his credit, he really was sick, the fear that festered in him causing his stomach to lurch with nausea. 

He hung up and Spike pulled him close, exposed the smooth column of his neck, and tore into him savagely, his demon eyes finally settling on Willow as he drained Lenny slowly. She turned away, horrified as the clerk began to clutch at the vampire intimately, almost lovingly. It reminded her of her own reaction to his drinking from her, how she discovered her panties were soaked with desire. She assumed it was her dream and Oz was the cause, and it would not have been the first time, but witnessing him drinking from another, she felt the same pull, deep in her belly, and was disgusted with her traitorous body. 

“You will watch!” Her head snapped back as he growled and continued. 

Eventually, he was done and dropped the body. It took almost 8 minutes by her estimate, and she intended to remember that for future reference. He stomped up to her and she backed away, panic seeping from every pore. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” Tiny hands splayed against his hard chest in a meager attempt to stay his advance. It shocked her when he took her lips with his in a brutal kiss, ravaging her mouth, once he'd forced it open. She tasted the blood and felt faint, moaning in anguish into his mouth. He pulled back and smirked at her, eyebrow cocked high. 

“What? I always share when someone brings me dinner.” He chuckled as she wiped at her mouth, angry at his violation. He picked up the corpse and pulled out the dead man's car keys, tossing them to the redhead. 

“You're driving witch. Want your pretty little prints all over his car when they find it and him. Long as you behave, the LVPD won't get an anonymous tip about a certain redhead.” 

They head out together, dead body in tow, her complicity inevitable as she swallowed her tears for a man named Lenny.


	7. Chapter 7

The ditching of the car, and consequently the body in the trunk was uneventful. They left it in a grocery store lot a few blocks away, and Spike made sure Willow's presence in the car would be undeniable, if ever the police were pointed in her direction. 

She tried to keep up as they walked back to the room, but she was tired and overwrought. The vampire periodically yanked on her arm when she fell behind, but otherwise made no attempt to communicate with her. She was afraid of Spike, to be sure, but when he was chatty he seemed more human and less likely to hurt her. True, that was probably the worst trap to fall into, but she could not help but feel better, safer, as long as he seemed happy. Nevermind that Happy Spike was just as deadly as Angry Spike. 

They climbed the stairs, and Spike unlocked the door and led her in. In an effort to avoid the impending and most likely painful confrontation, the redhead made a dash for the bathroom. She let out a startled yelp at the vampire's sudden appearance, blocking entry to the watercloset. 

“Spike…” She looked up into the cold blue eyes and dropped her gaze, unable to endure the intensity she saw there. “Please…I'm sorry…I was scared. You would have done the same thing!” 

“Yes, you're right, but I would have escaped ... with no repercussions. But you didn't get away, therefore repercussions.” A grin was firmly planted on his face. 

She backed away as her imagination ran wild. “What k-kind of r-repercussions?” 

“ _You_ betrayed my trust. I've been real good to you here, pet. No chains, no cuffs, no gags, no blindfolds, no torture, and, except for a little sleep-eating, no biting. Do you think I don't _want_ to do all of that to you? I want to mar your pale, perfect skin, leave it bruised and beautiful. I want to deprive you of your freedom to speak, see, move, feel, until I am all you perceive. I want to take you on a walk along that fine line between pleasure and pain. I want to drain your sweet blood and make you beg me to let to drink mine. But ... I didn't.” He lit a smoke and circled her as he continued. 

“Planned on giving you back,” he lied. “But it seems your friends don't want to make the trade.” 

This got her attention and she peered up again. 

“Called the white hats while I was out getting you some food.” He nodded at the Burger King bag on the table. He was pleased at the substantially guilty expression she now wore, the smell of unshed tears. 

“The slayer thinks a world without you is preferable to a world with me having the ring of Amara.” 

Her tears fell over, bottom lip quivering. He loved it. 

“She'll come for me,” she whispered, choking on the words as the first sob escaped her. 

“No, she can't, and she wouldn't if she could.” He looked at her through the smoke, eyes narrowed. “Now, luv, the question is what to do with you? He approached her, bit his bottom lip and pouted. 

“You're a tasty morsel to be certain, and after having a sample, I'm all for the main course.” She closed her eyes and tried to block his words out. He would kill her, she was sure, but she did not have to listen to what spouted from his cruel mouth, or look into his mocking eyes, eyes that could seem so inviting. 

“Why?” she managed, her voice so small and childlike that for a moment he saw Dru. 

“Why what, pet?” 

“Why did she do this?” She was still shaking her head as if the conviction of her denial would change her reality. 

“Hard to say.” He took her by the hand and guided her to sit on the bed. She obeyed easily, the fight gone out of her. “I'll give you a choice. I can kill you and be done with it. No more pain. Or I can keep you, give you a chance to prove how useful you can be to me.” 

Before she thought, she asked, “What would I have to do? Not kill anyone, right?” 

He chuckled at her naivety. “No. I can handle all the killing that needs to be done. Course, if you want to kill someone, be my guest, as long as it's not yours truly. No…You can be of service in a whole other way.” 

She shivered, losing hope. 

“Can I use the bathroom now?” She did not trust herself to speak, and refused to look at him, needing time to think away from his presence. 

“Yeah, go. Don't lock it.” 

 

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The water, cool and fresh, didn't help clear her head as she splashed it on her face. Spike was going to kill her soon, maybe painfully, if she could not think of a reason for him keep her around. 

She understood her friend's reasoning. Many would die to spare Willow. Spike would be…treacherous with that ring. Willow thought that he would not be much worse than he already is, given that he would spend a lot more time doing things he hasn't done in nearly two centuries, things you could do in the sun. 

There were times when she thought she was important to the group, her researching and computer skills unmatched. She was also getting better at magic, although success was sporadic, but she felt she was making progress. And she knew she was a good friend to both Buffy and Xander, even when they weren't always there for her. It was not because they were selfish, just oblivious. 

And now Spike wanted to keep her for his own pleasure. She was not a stupid girl, and was well aware of what she would have to do if she planned on staying alive. She could earn his trust and eventually get away. It was her only hope, if Buffy really was not able to find her. 

Shower. 

With a sigh she peeled off her clothes. They were wrinkled and not exactly fresh, but were all she had, so she folded them neatly on the toilet and turned on the shower, waiting while the water warmed to her ideal temperature. 

Steam enveloped her small frame as she stepped in behind the white curtain. Her mind, as blank as she tried to make it, constantly flashed images of her and Oz, embracing, kissing, more. They were fragmented by other imagery of her and Spike, his hands caressing her, his fangs piercing her flesh. She shuddered, not sure if it was from disgust or intrigue, breaking the trance. 

She was so caught up in her mental debate that she didn't hear to door open, or feel the curtain move inward from the breeze, so her scream as the vampire joined her in the shower was quite understandable. 

“Spiiiiiiiike! What are you…Out! Out!” Her attempt to cover herself with a tiny washcloth amused the blond demon, but he merely leered at her, turning her around by her shoulders. 

“Thought you could use help reaching the hard spots.” 

“No…No. I don't have any hard pa-aaaarts!” she squealed and jumped as soon as his soapy hand touched her back. 

“Well, you can help me with my hard parts.” 

“I…you …you can wash your hard parts yourself. I mean… not your hard… I mean parts that are hard…to get to!” 

He pulled her close, rubbing his erection along the center of her ass. 

“My hard parts aren't that hard to get to, luv.” He ran a soap-slicked hand along the front of her as she gasped, gliding over a firm breast and circling her nipple until it was erect. “And neither are yours,” he purred in her ear, setting her legs to tremble. 

She knew this was wrong, allowing him to caress her and not fight, but her body did not care. It was running on auto-pilot, partly in survival mode, and partly in secret school-girl crush. The vampire starred in many late night dreams during her junior and senior years at Sunnydale High. He was gorgeous and sexy and dangerous and totally never an option, so she felt safe crushing on him. By the time she started dating Oz, and she and Xander had their disastrous fluking, her Spike-crush was lessening, only to be rekindled by his drunken attempted at kidnapping. She saw just how much he could love and felt for him. On top of everything else, he was a hopeless romantic with the one he loved. 

“What are you doing to me?” she panted, unaware that she placed her hand on his as it roamed her toned body. 

“What do you want me to do to you, Willow?” His voice was melodic, calming and enchanting. She let herself get lost in it and stopped thinking. Just today, she would forget how wrong this was. Just today, she would do something unexpected and unacceptable. Just today, she would take something she desire, only because she wanted it. She would forget the consequences, and be alive for one day in case it was her last. 

 

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The irrefutable evidence of her wanton behavior lay in plan view in the middle of the room. The bed was broken, beyond repair, sheets torn and polluted with blood and cum. 

If she closed her eyes, she could still feel his hands on her, bruising and caressing in equal measure, giving her just the right amount of hurt to amplify the pleasure. His lips, his fingers...she had no idea, that fingers could do that. She squirmed thinking about them and his hard parts, entering her, thrusting powerfully deep inside, enticing screams and illicit promises in return for the excruciating bliss he gave. He'd bitten her as he came in her, growling in such a primordial way that it sent chills up her spine. 

And as she sat on the chair wrapped in a shred of the sheets, observing the scene of her crimes, she discovered she wanted to be closer to him. He was perched on the edge of the bed, looking for his cigarettes. She watched him, enjoying the view of his chiseled, pale body. She wanted him to want her again, but would not dare ask for his touch. 

He felt her staring and met her gaze. His demon was delighted with how thoroughly debauched she was, her innoncence a definite bonus. He considered taking her again, but had some calls to make, set a few things in motion before he met up with the slayer and collected his prezzie. He reached for his bag, pulling out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. 

“Go shower.” He tossed her the clothes. “You can take your time, but we'll be leaving in a couple of hours.” She looked like she was going to say something, but then just got up and padded, barefoot, to the bathroom to wash away the proof of her sins.


	8. Chapter 8

While Willow was in the bathroom, Spike made calls and plans. He had to cash in a few favors, but got what he needed: one appointment with a very good documents forger. He then went online and made two separate reservations at a resort in Palm Springs, using the names that would be on the fake ids, and a reservation for a rental car. Now all he needed to do was get a few things for the girl, since she had no clothes, and the plan was set. 

 

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The hot water settled around her aching body as she sunk lower in the tub. Everything was sore and she knew this was not the worst of it. She soon would stiffen, muscles that had never been used before were just beginning to cramp, even in this heat. She soaked for about thirty minutes, at first wary that the vampire would join her, but relaxing as she heard him talking, apparently on the phone. She didn't even bother trying to eavesdrop, happy to have a temporary sanctuary. When the water cooled she washed and shampooed her hair quickly. Finally feeling cleaner, she rose, glancing in the mirror across from her. 

The mirror exposed too much evidence of her unseemly activities. The bruises covered her hips, thighs, and wrists. There were two deep punctures where he bit her on her neck, and another on her inner thigh that she didn't remember. She turned, looking at her back over her shoulder, finding it marked with red scratches. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, as if this could block the burning memories of her begging him to fucker her harder, hold her closer. 

Stepping out of the tub, she wrapped the towel around her frame, careful of the small number of irritating wounds. She used the motel lotion, and began dressing as she noticed all was quiet. Clothed and with nothing else to delay her, she made her way back into the room and to her fate. 

 

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After speed shopping at Walmart, having her picture taken by some weird orange demon for fake ids, and driving across the desert all night with a very chatty vampire, Willow was sleepy, hungry, and grouchy. To add insult to injury, they stopped at the airport in San Bernadino to pick up a rental car, leaving the Desoto in long term parking when all she wanted to do was sleep, but as they pulled up to the tropical resort, she drew a breath, smiling for the first time in a while. 

They walked in, Spike carrying the one suitcase (a Walmart purchase) to the front desk. Willow was surprised to see that they had a reservation, and even giggled at their names, Jim and Amara Williams, earning a repressed grin from the blond posing as her husband. 

Once in the room Willow took a small tour, oohing and awing appropriately. After a few minutes, she collapsed on the bed, only to have Spike take her by the hand, pulling her back up roughly. 

“We're not staying in this room. Got another all ready for us, just need to register.” He handcuffed her to the bed and grabbed the suitcase, pulling out a box. It was a temporary rinse. “When I get back, dye my hair, pet.” Smirking at her pout he left. 

At the front desk, he advised the concierge that a Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles would be meeting him and his wife later in the day, and that they were to be given a key to the room after leaving a ring with the concierge to put in the safe for him. 

Confident that everything was going well, the blond demon sauntered back to the room.


	9. Chapter 9

When he came out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his slim hips, Willow almost didn't recognize him as he rubbed the fluffy material vigorously through his hair. The muscles in his chest and arms jumped and rippled with his efforts, and she found herself enchanted, the blue eyes more intense and penetrating, in contrast with his now dark brown locks. He was a Greek god personified and she could not tear her eyes away from the sight of him. 

The vampire did not miss the rapid increase in her heartbeat. He glanced at her casually, not wanting to interrupt her perusal of him as he dried his hair. He could only imagine that she was seeing him as he looked when he unintentionally ensnared Angelus, who enjoyed what he saw so much that he had to capture him and his evident beauty for eternity. As a human, he had no awareness of his looks, so wrapped in pleasing others, or just one other in particular. But the demon in him understood the practical advantages of his features, and used them to the fullest. And he knew exactly what he was doing to this young witch. 

“He's too beautiful,” she whispered, but the vampire caught the words anyway and she jumped slightly when he spoke. 

“You think so?” 

She blushed, realizing he had heard her. “Spike, you know you're… well gorgeous is a good word to use, I think.” She was on the verge of babbling and forced herself to stop. 

“Don't have a reflection, luv, so I can't be sure anymore.” 

She was sure that he was near pouting and found it endearing. The Big Bad was uncertain of his looks! The young girl in her could sympathize with that, never really appreciating her own beauty, and she wanted to reassure him. 

“You don't have to have a reflection…” Willow bounced up, excited that she could be useful, especially to the master vampire who would be killing her as soon as she wasn't. She passed him and pulled on his hand to follow her, so he went, curious. 

In the bathroom, she saw herself and a blank space where the vampire should have been. “Look in the mirror,” the redhead ordered, now confident and in her element, as she concentrated on the image of the vampire next to her. She then turned to face the mirror, focusing on where Spike's reflection would be and began to chant. 

“E ispiritu, domius depeggio en o vie dil miriste.” 

Slowly, like a mist, then like a ghost, finally becoming whole, was the image of Spike, in the mirror, as Willow saw him. She continued to chant, to keep up the magics as the demon stared in awe, seeing himself, not in a picture or drawing, but live and moving. He turned to Willow and smiled gratefully, but she was lost to her spell and did not notice. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

They were done checking in again, this time as a brunette couple. The redhead's fiery locks were concealed by a darn brown wig. Spike, ever one for details, insisted on using an eye pencil on her eyebrows. She protested for a minute, but agreed the instant he told her he would hold her down and dye her hair and eyebrows if she said one more word. Her second identification labeled her as Mrs. Nancy Townsend. Spike got to be her David. 

So now they were in the new room, which was much grander than the first with a view overlooking the pool. The vampire was stretched out across the bed napping, while Willow picked at the food brought up for her by room service. The laptop was left online, and the redhead was contemplating emailing Buffy. She was still furious at her friend for not trading the ring for her life, but perhaps if the slayer knew where to find Willow, she would be more inclined to negotiate with the formerly blond demon. 

She watched Spike, who seemed to be in a deep sleep. It was hard to tell, since he generally looked like a corpse. It was so risky with him in the room, but she needed to try something, anything. Having made up her mind, she twisted slowly in her chair, being as quiet as she could. 

“I can bloody well hear you, you know.” The sound was muffled by the pillow he was facing, but she flinched anyway. 

“H-hear me what?” 

“Thinking.” He flipped over, snatching his cigarettes from the bed table and lighting one. “I fancy I can hear the soddin' wheels turning. What's going on in that overactive brain of yours, Red?” 

“N-nothing. I was just thinking about Buffy not giving you the ring. Maybe if I… you know…talk to her…she might…well…she might think I'm…all vampy and evil already...” 

“Please stop.” He scowled, not understanding how someone so smart could say so much, yet say so little. 

Willow immediately closed her mouth and looked down, periodically chancing a peek at him. It was strange hearing the familiar, delicious English accent coming from this creature who looked so different from the demon who plagued them for the last two years. 

“So this is what you looked like before?” 

“Before what?” He puffed on the cigarette distractedly. 

“Before he…uh…when you were human.” 

“More or less. And thanks that.” He was facing her now, gazing into her eyes. She understood what he was referring to and just nodded, smiling. 

“What's different?” 

“Well, I'm a lot leaner, harder, which is bloody wonderful! And my hair is shorter, a bit darker. And I now have a huge scar on me eyebrow!” 

“Oh…I thought you must have done that when you were alive, since vampires heal completely.” 

“Well Angelus told me it was a tiny thing, lying wanker…All these years...” He trailed off not telling her how he got it.

“It doesn't look bad. It's just there.” She had walked from her seat at the table, abandoning her food, and stood over him, her fingers touching the old wound gently. He grabbed her hand by the wrist, forcing a gasp from the redhead. He almost released his grip, her skin was scorching him so. Instead the vampire caressed the inside of her arm as it was extended before him, brushing the outer curve of her breast innocently. 

She wondered if she could do this. Be with him again. Would he be different now, somehow more human since he now looked like his human counterpart? She doubted it. This vampire was a demon's demon, and a simple change in color was not apt to make him into some cuddlevamp. And would he want her again? 

Her arousal hit him, a pleasant surprise on a pleasant day. He did not consider the girl would ever be more than a willing victim, but he'd hardly touched her and she was becoming ready for him. 

“Bath, now.” 

She nearly objected on principle, stopping as she remembered that she wanted this, had wanted it since he kicked her out of the broken bed last night. He smashed the butt into the ashtray and hopped up, fluidly, as if boneless, and padded to the bathroom, shedding his clothes as he moved. 

The tub was made for a least two and took a while to fill. As the water level rose, he added a bit of rosemary oil and turned to the girl who was still fully clothed, ogling him. 

He undressed her, kissing the pale skin as he exposed it, caressing the lingering bruises with his tongue. 

“You are a marvel.” Her breath came in pants as he licked her throat, his hands touching her everywhere. “I can and will eat you alive.” His voice was low and resonant, and she wanted him to speak to her forever. 

“Please…” Her head fell forward, resting on his chest, as her legs trembled; she was overwhelmed by him. 

He lifted her small body and lowered her into the tub, getting in himself and sitting opposite the witch. 

“Too far,” she gasped while he pulled her to straddle him, bringing her lips boldly to capture his. He groaned, his cock swelling as he returned her passion and dominated her mouth. She felt his bulge increase and lifted her hips so he slipped inside her hot channel, slamming down hard. Her heart pounded, the rush of her blood heating her, ringing in her ears. 

He watched her ride him. She gave herself up to him, holding nothing back, and her screams as he took over their pace only served to increase his violent pounding up into her tight cunt. The water splashed over the sides, small waterfalls and wading pools created from their lust. 

The bite, when it came, was deep and most welcome, sending her over the edge, into that abyss where no thought or deed was required. All she had to do was feel. She wanted this existence, where all she had to be afraid of was him. Everything else would be killed before it could ever harm her. And she would fuck her way into his cold, black heart, if that's what it took. 

 

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“Why do you bite me? Just for a snack?” She was lying against him in the tub, the jets massaging her tired muscles. 

“I bit you because I wanted to taste you. And my demon wanted to mark you.” 

“Mark me?” 

“You belong to me now, and DON'T give me any of this women's rights mumbo jumbo about men and women being equal. I am not a man.” She shut her mouth yet again, unable to argue that point. 

“Angelus did it to Slutty," he stated offhandedly. When Willow's eyes widened, the demon rejoiced in the mischief it was about to make. “What? You didn't know? Buffy too much of a hypocrite to admit to her friends that she, the slayer, belongs to the most vicious vampire in history?” 

“She let Angel bite her to save him. She fed him her blood to get rid of the poison,” she defended. 

“I know that, and you know that, but I can smell his claim on her. You don't have to bite that deep to feed, especially from the one you ‘love'.” 

“Don't you ever wonder why they can't get over each other?” He continued. “Everything they do is about the other. All angsty and brooding. I tell you, if I have to witness it again, I'll heave.” 

“So now you think I belong to you." The growl vibrating against her back made her rephrase her statement. “I mean, I belong to you.” She twisted around to see his eyes, something she was normally too afraid to do, afraid of what she would not see. “Where does this leave me when you're bored with me?” 

He stood, helping her up with him and stepped out onto the drenched floor. “Keep me interested, Red, so you never have to find out.” 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Spike called the watcher and slayer while Willow was temporarily deafened by the blow dryer. From the long string of expletives he heard in the background from Giles, the demon gathered that they were a bit peeved at him. He could not imagine why since he did keep his word and called back. 

They were also not happy about meeting him in Palm Springs, or any of his other ‘instructions'. It was just after 2 in the afternoon, and he told them to be at the resort at sundown, and there would be more instructions for them at the front desk. 

Spike hung up, happy with the progress so far. His eyes wandered to the bathroom door, behind which was one witch. He was in conflict about her, part of the vampire wanting to keep her as a pet for a while, maybe kill her later, maybe court her and turn her, and another part wanted to be rid of her, so that he could enjoy his new freedom with the gem of Amara. Deciding not to decide yet, after all he had nearly four hours of procrastination left, he made mental preparations for both options, promising himself to do as he fancied when the time came.


	10. Chapter 10

The large palm trees lined the approach and continued right to the front doors of the lobby. Buffy and Giles stood off to the left of the entrance, in the fading sunlight, going over the plan once more with Xander. 

“Okay so, _we_ go in and ask for, what's it say Giles?” 

He took the paper from his pocket, grimacing. “How cute of him, really. Jim and Amara Williams.” 

She frowned, wondering at the vampire's sense of humor, and why exactly he had one, being that he was dead. And deader when she caught him. “Anyway, Spike is supposed to leave the NEXT hoop for us to jump through with the concierge.” 

She stopped again, taking a good look at her surroundings,. “And how can he afford a place like this? He owns, what, one pair of jeans, drives that beat up hunk-a-junk…” 

“DeSoto,” Xander interrupted. 

“Huh?” 

“The car… Spike's car… It's a DeSoto… A classic.” 

“Please shut up,” Giles chimed in, tired and worried about the missing hacker. 

“Fine. Xan, you stay down here in the lobby, keep an eye out for either of them. Call the cell if you see anything. I don't know what we'll have to do, but we can't risk talking to you again, he might have someone watching. Just… I don't know…check the front desk for a message in 30 minutes, and then wait and watch. 

“Sure Buff.” He gave a crooked smile, gripping the tiny blonde by her shoulders. “We're gonna get her back.” She swallowed the tears that threatened and smiled, gathering strength from her friend. 

“Come, Buffy, let's not give him any reason to delay this any longer. The sun is setting.” 

Xander watched their retreating forms, waiting a few minutes before entering and heading for the bar. He took a seat where he had a decent view of the front desk, but was obscured from anyone's detection by a potted palm. Someone would have to be looking for him to notice his presence. 

At the front desk, Giles felt it better that he do the talking, in case things were not as easy as they wished. His slayer's temper was not always amiable. 

“Welcome to the Desert Oasis. Do you have a reservation?” a bright and cheery greeting from Paul, or so the name tag said. 

“Actually, no. We are meeting…friends… and were instructed to ask for the concierge.” 

“Oh, who are you looking for, are they guests here?” Paul dialed a few digits and began speaking into his headset. 

“I presume so…eh Jim…Jim and Amara Williams?” 

The clerk was busy tapping on the keyboard and talking. When he was done he met Giles' eyes, sporting another dazzling smile. “Jason will be here in just a second. He has a message…oh here he is.” 

Another ridiculously happy native southern Californian greeted both the watcher and the slayer, shaking the former's hand until the Englishman pulled away in uniquely disguised displeasure. 

“Mr. Williams was very specific about making you both as comfortable as possible while waiting for him and his adorable little wife.” 

“Oh A-Amara is here too?” Buffy asked trying to gain anything useful. 

“Yes, and they are a lovely couple,” he exclaimed. 

Giles gave a sick giggle. 

“Of course,” Buffy replied. 

“Now, I was instructed to collect an item from you to place in the hotel safe box for Mr. Williams to collect later.” He waited expectantly while Giles and Buffy looked warily at the concierge and each other. This was the moment that would define how everything went down. If they refused, Spike would disappear, and who knows what the unpredictable vampire would do to retaliate. If they surrendered the ring to this stranger, the same thing may happen, but if there was a chance she could get Willow back now, she had to take it. 

“We have to see it go into the safe, Jason. It's very valuable to us and irreplaceable.” 

“Of course! Please follow me.” The young man sashayed to a door and motioned for them to enter. He led them through another door, closing it behind them and then opened a safety deposit box with a key and inside was a padded envelope. 

“He provided this envelope for your use.” Buffy glanced at Giles once more before she dropped it in the envelope, sealed it and put it in the box. Jason then slid it back into its slot and locked it with the key, smiling profusely, as if he'd accomplished a major task. 

“So…Sp…Jim has to come in here to get this right? And there are no other doors?” Buffy inquiried. 

“Yes…he has to come here and no other doors.” His perpetual smile was marred slightly by a crease in his brow. “Is everything alright?” 

“Everything's fine. Now where do we find Jim?” 

Glad to be back on familiar territory, Jason perked up. “Let's just get your key. Mr. Williams wanted you to come up to their room.” 

Surprised at this turn in events, and wondering how it worked to the blond vampire's advantage, they trailed behind. Back at the front desk, he programmed a keycard and handed it to Giles. 

“Room 715. Do you need any help up?” 

“Oh no, we're just visiting. Thanks.” Buffy turned and headed for the elevator, happier than ever that they had Xander watching for Spike or Willow. She was certain that the demon would try to get the ring while they were upstairs. Checking the cell one last time, to make sure it was on, she pressed the elevator button. 

Jason kept his eye on them until they disappeared behind the closing doors, and only then breathed a huge sigh of relief. Mr. Williams gave him the creeps beyond rational understanding and was dangerous, to be sure, but so was that small woman, and he wanted no more to do with their little games, whatever they were. He felt his pocket for the ten crisp $100 bills the gentleman had given him as a tip for his assistance in getting the ring in the safety deposit box and the odd couple to his room, and leaned over to Paul. 

“I'm not feeling too good. Think I'll knock off early. You okay until Maggie gets here?” 

“Sure, not that busy, and only two more check-ins are expected for tonight. Yeah, go.” 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Buffy, stake in hand, entered first, cautious and tense, expecting a surprise attack. When her spider senses could not detect a vampire she relaxed, as did Giles behind her. 

“Empty.” 

“What the devil is he playing at?” Giles wondered out loud. 

“I'm leaving a message for Xander. Make sure he watches for Spike or Willow to go in that room.” 

“Good idea, Buffy,” he replied. The bar was opened and called to the watcher. 

“NO!” She yelled. “It could be drugged or poisoned.” 

“Yes, you're quite right. I'm just beside myself with worry. But as long as Spike is paying for this room, I may as well get some use from it. After you leave that message, I'm ordering room service.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Xander discretely asked the clerk if there was a message for him, silently shouting for joy when he was given a small envelope. 

He walked back into to bar and reclaimed his seat as he read. 

‘We are in room 715. Call us from the house phone every 30 minutes, and ring once if you have no news. Let it ring until we answer if you have something. In an emergency, call the cell. So far no Spike or Willow. Watch the side door behind the front desk. The ring is in there in a safe box. Make the 1st call at 7:15 if you get this in time.' 

He folded the paper, feeling less loss now that he had an objective, and sipped his soda. It was hard to believe that he was in danger of losing his little Willow. She was not a little girl anymore, he knew that, and she was strong, able to take care of herself in most cases, but this was Spike, and even Buffy could barely handle the vampire, so he could hardly expect Willow to defend herself against a murderous demon. He considered them all lucky that Spike kept her alive, and he hoped that she wasn't too scared. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Willow screeched, running at full speed and jumping on the bed, the vampire in pursuit. “Noooooo!” she cried. “Don't touch me!” She backed into the corner as he stalked her. 

“You're gonna pay for this, witch.” Upon his prey, he pulled her trembling form into a bear hug, making sure to cover every inch of her with as much whipped cream and chocolate syrup as possible. Her complaints were distorted by her giggles, and his hard body smothering her. Finally, satisfied that she was as sticky as he was, he let her free. 

The redhead tentatively touched her face and hair, which was now flat with the sweet substances in spots. 

The demon eyed her appreciatively and commented, “I feel better,” as he lit a smoke, scowling when it stuck to his fingers. 

“Gods Spike. It's a mess in here.” 

“Your fault. Shouldn't have refused the bloody chocolate covered strawberries.” 

“I'm ALLERGIC to strawberries, Spike!” she laughed. They'd been through this before. 

“Yeah…well don't be such a prissy thing. Live a little. And if you do get a rash, I promise to rub cream all over your tight little body.” He wiggled his eyebrows, looking silly covered in chocolate and whipped cream. 

He did it again. Got her mind to go back into the gutter. Now all she could picture was his hands on her. 

Scenting her…interest… the vampire stubbed out the cigarette and stalked her again. This time he took her face in his large hands and kissed her thoroughly, savoring the taste of her and the sweets that coated her. 

He pulled back and looked into her emerald eyes. “Let's get you cleaned up, luv.” He led her trembling form to the king size bed, loving the sound of her heart as it pounded in anticipation. Her fear of him would always be delicious. 

“Bathroom's this way,” she replied, breathlessly. 

He slid his arm around her waist and sunk into the bed with her straddling him. “Know that, pet.” He flipped them as Willow yelped from her world turning so quickly, and began kissing and licking her lips, sucking on her jaw and neck, taking small bites and sips as she squirmed in delight.


	11. Chapter 11

Xander watched and waited, dutifully taking his breaks to make a quick call and hang up every thirty minutes. It was quarter past nine and no sign of the blond menace or his best friend. 

The cocktail waitress passed him again, making the ‘would you like another' eye contact. This time he nodded instead of shaking his head. The boy was hungry, and who could expect otherwise. The last he'd eaten was an early lunch before they left Sunnydale, since an uptight Englishman refused to stop at a suitable fast food drive thru on the way. So now he was suffering from borderline starvation and needed sustenance immediately. Surely no one expected him to function properly in this stealth mission on an empty stomach. 

Thoroughly convinced that he was justified, he placed his order. 

“Another drink, sir?” The waitress was tall and busty, as it seem they all usually were, but this had no effect on the brunette. Right now, the only breasts of interest to him were on a chicken. 

“Ah, no. But I'll have an order of chicken strips, onion rings and potatoes skins.” He said, having memorized the bar appetizer menu. 

“Alright…Do you want to try our create-a-sampler platter? You can choose any three appetizers,” she suggested, since he was alone. 

“No, those three will be enough… for now.” She shrugged and started to leave. 

“Oh…” he called her back. “And do you serve milkshakes?” 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Despite taking her third bath in 24 hours, Willow felt dirty. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar surroundings or the constant changing, but most likely it was the vampire. She gave him her body, a trade for her life. He took everything that she was and twisted it to his own perverted desires. And she allowed him, wanted it, basked in it. 

Normally, she expected she would feel like a victim, used and abused, with her bruises and bites. Yes, a victim to be pitied and comforted. But she planned to do it again, for as long as he would have her. 

Sighing, she got up and finished packing her meager belongings. They were leaving soon, headed for destinations unknown. Maybe they could stop at that huge designer outlet off of Highway 10 in Calabasas. She doubted it, since it was after nine and most store were closed now, but she would ask. 

Spike was packed and waited for her, surprisingly patient and mellow, looking amazingly angelic and so very different, his usual jeans and tee replaced by a shirt and slacks. He lounged in a chair, relaxed, watching racing and smoking. She spied on him from the bathroom while she donned her wig. She was not sure why the demon insisted on her wearing this, but she had to admit the look was a good one. The long brown hair enhanced her pale skin, giving her an ethereal appearance. She felt a little like Cordelia. Well not as tall or curvy or pretty, but attractive nonetheless. 

“Willow, you ready in there, pet?” 

She took one last look and smiled at him using her name. “Yep.” 

He stood, picked the bag up from the bed and closed it. Together they headed out the door. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Paul took the key from Spike and checked his id that professed the vampire to be Jim Williams before taking him to the vault, while Willow checked out of the room occupied by David and Nancy Townsend with Maggie. 

A few yards away, Xander was just settling in with his meal as the waitress brought over the condiments he requested. In the young man's opinion you could never have enough ranch dip or ketchup. Unfortunately, the arrival distracted him from his watch, and he missed the dark haired gentlemen dressed in a black silk shirt and grey slacks being escorted to the room of his attention by one of the desk clerks. 

Willow saw Spike disappear with the man and was tempted to run, find a phone, but the memory of a very unlucky Lenny stayed her. Instead, she roamed the lobby until she came to a bank of pamphlets offering tours and discounts on activities in the area. She read the ones that caught her eye, keeping them if they seemed interesting. She was startled by the hand on her shoulder, but growing accustomed to his stealthy approach, she managed to resist screaming. 

“Are we all checked out, luv?” She nodded, allowing him to take her hand with his free one. “Car's out front. Let's go.” Numb, she was led out into the night, and being ever the gentleman, the vampire opened her door and helped her in. He slipped around to the other side, where the attendant was holding his door open, shoved a twenty dollar bill into the young man's hand and jumped in. 

“Buckle up, pet.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

With a mouthful of potato skins, Xander peeked around the palm tree. He'd resumed his duty while eating, and did happened to catch sight of a man leaving the room under his surveillance. But sense it was obviously not the blond menace, he went back to munching and watching the man. He could not say why, but he did seem familiar, not a conscious recognition, but subconsciously he had Xander's attention. So his eyes followed as his mouth worked on auto-pilot. He saw the man approach a woman, brunette, but he could not see her face, as her back was to him, but there was something in the way she stiffened that made him stand and start toward the couple. He watched them get into the car, certainly not a DeSoto, but the feeling was still nagging at him. He tried to get a better look at the woman, her profile almost visible to him, but they pulled away. 

It was not time for a scheduled call, but he was uneasy about what he saw. He picked up the house phone, dialing room 715. It rang one time, clicked twice, then rang again. 

“Hello Desert Oasis.” It was the hotel operator. 

Caught by surprise the young brunette stammered momentarily. “I-I was trying to reach room 715.” It was more a question. 

“Hold please….Sorry sir, that room is not occupied.” 

“What? I mean…Maybe it's the wrong room. I'm looking for Williams, uh and Amara and Jim. Room 715. I just called there 20 minutes ago.” 

“Oh… well let me check.” He was placed on hold. “Sir, they've just checked out….” 

He did not hear anymore as he dashed from the lobby into the driveway, no sign of the car that undoubtedly held his best friend. Dread and disappointment creeping into his heart, he ran to the elevator, ignoring the strange looks. Once on the 7th floor, he found 715 and banged on the door. It was opened with such a rush that he fell in. 

Buffy and Giles gawked at the figure scrambling to his feet. 

“Xander! What are you doing??” Buffy yelled through clenched teeth. “Why didn't you call?” 

Giles was helping him up, noting his sense of panic. 

“Spike…I think they left.” 

“What??? How?” Buffy and Giles exclaimed. 

“He dyed his hair! And Wills was wearing a wig maybe, so I didn't realize it was them until it was too late. I tried to call, but they said the Williams' were checked out, they just checked out. It had to be them.” 

“Come on,” the blonde growled as she darted out the room.


	12. Chapter 12

Giles was at the front desk arguing with Paul about the deposit made in the safe box. The young man really had no idea which box it was in, and could not tell them anything about the others. The watcher tried to impress upon him the need to call Jason, that the concierge could explain, but made no progress with that route either. He was nearly sure that Spike would have taken the ring upon leaving, but needed to be completely sure before they left, since Xander's description of the couple was so off. 

Maggie, coming back from her break, overheard the conversation and spoke up. “Mr. Williams cleared out the box when he checked out.” 

All eyes turned to her, and suddenly she felt microscopic. 

“When was this?” Giles asked. 

“I went on break right after so…15 minutes ago. Paul, what's going on?” 

The young man shrugged, wishing he'd never agreed to cover for Jason at all. 

Defeated, and with no more calls or notes, they headed out the lobby doors, each thinking of creative ways to kill their most annoying and apparently intelligent nemesis. 

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Where are we going?” Willow asked. They had been on the road for a while, the vampire unusually quiet, thoughtful. When he didn't acknowledge her at all, she turned away, giving her attention to the dark landscape. 

“Not sure yet,” he finally responded. In truth, he had no idea where to go. He was ready to try out the Gem, found it amusing the witch hadn't noticed it on his finger, but he also wanted to play with this intriguing little pet a bit longer. Perhaps a lot longer. And now that he didn't have to worry about the slayer, he _could_ turn the girl. The problem with that was that she was young, just 18, not fully who she would be. Turning her now could create a childe of havoc, which was fine with him as a demon, but not fine for a sire. 

Seeing her in that wig, the dark hair accentuating her pale skin, gave him a glimpse of what she would be as a vampire. Glorious and deceptive. She was still so innocent, and he wanted to capture that naivety and corrupt it, which was something that would take time if he wanted her to stay sane. 

“Hey…” She glanced over at his call, “You can take off the piece if you like.” 

She wondered if he did not like the look as much as she did. All she said was “Oh,” but left it on. 

He noticed that she made no move to remove it, said nothing and kept on driving. He had no idea what was on her mind and while his demon demanded he take her repeatedly until she had no secrets, Spike thought it better to extract those from her willingly, over time, so she had no excuse later for giving her all to the vampire. 

He waited until he heard the steady rhythm of her breathing, indicating she was asleep, and lit a smoke, cracking the window slightly. His mind was made up about her, what he would do, how to do it, and so he drove on, their destination now very clear. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Wakey, wakey, luv.” 

Willow stretched as best she could in the confines of the rental as she woke. Sensing no motion, her eyes raked over her surrounding, a gasp of surprise escaping. 

“Spike! Why?” She felt foolish as soon as she said it. She was home, well outside her parents house in the driveway, but close enough and it was not very smart to question the vampire who was letting her go. But did she want to go back to her life? 

“What? You don't want to be with your little white hats fighting nasty evil such as myself?” 

“Well… yeah, of course…but why? I mean… all this and no ring? Kinda pointless, like taking a field trip to school.” 

Her analogy was lost to him, but her rambling was amusing. 

“Oh, I've got me ring. A gift from your good friends.” 

“You what?” she yelled, then thought better of it as his eye darkened and continued calmly. “When? You said she wouldn't… How…?” 

“I lied, pet.” He soaked up the fire in her eyes, the tears that encroached. Her turmoil as she remembered all she had done to _save herself_ was a delicious concoction. 

“Oooh! You…you lying, evil, mean…” 

“Well…yeah. I guess I should have been more honest…But don't think I don't appreciate the shags. And your virginity? Sweetest gift of all, really. I wish I could have it again, get between those sweet legs and make you bleed, but that was a one off, wasn't it?” 

She was shaking, desperately trying to open the door, when he grabbed her roughly. “You forgot. You looked on this face and forgot.” He slipped from his human visage into that of the demon. “This is what I am, Willow. This is what you gave yourself to and now you belong to me.” 

She struggled as he pulled her close, over the gearshift between them. She began to cry. 

“Shhhh,” He quieted her as he removed the wig and tangled his hand in her red tresses to expose the creamy smooth column and sunk his fangs into her tender flesh, biting deep again, reclaiming her. He drank enough to weaken her, but not knock her out, and retracted the demon's teeth. 

“Look at me, Red.” It took a few seconds, but she focused on the vampire, the fire back. “There's my luv. You are mine now. Forever.” He growled. “Play with your little wolfboy if you like, but I will come back for you, and I'll kill whomever I smell on you when I do. But it's your decision if you play.” He watched her for understanding and seeming satisfied he got out and walked around the car, opening her door. 

“Why? Why did you lie?” She would have given herself to him without the deception. 

“It was fun, pet. I could smell your tears and pain when you thought they didn't care enough to trade a ring for your life, and it was intoxicating, better than your fear. And I loved it. But if you're worried that I don't really want you, you shouldn't, because I do. And I will have you again and again, for eternity.” 

He leaned in and kissed her trembling lips, moved to her eyes, kissing and tasting her tears, and his gentleness confused her. His words confused her. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Buffy had reluctantly dialed the one number she didn't want to dial, but she had no other options, and needed insight into the menace of a childe that Angelus created nearly two centuries ago. The only being with that knowledge was Angel. 

“Why are you just calling me, Buffy? Spike's had her for over three days.” 

“I thought we were handling it. We agreed to make the trade and he told us where to find them, but… I …We thought he would keep his end of the deal.” She knew it was lame as she said it, but it was true. In their desperation to get the redhead back, they didn't think things through. She knew now that the blond or evidently not-blond-anymore vampire kept them all on the ropes, defending, with no time to plan an offense. 

“Well, there IS no real way to handle Spike. I couldn't. Only sheer strength, the ability to confine him can control him, and even then he is always thinking. His mind is working on so many levels… I just wish you had called me sooner.” 

The slayer sighed. “So what can we do now?” 

“I don't know Buffy. I can't pick up on him. I know he's alive and basically happy, which may not be a good thing, but he's not close enough for me to say which way you should go.” 

“Do you think she's alive?” 

“If it's the old Spike, then you should pray that she is not still alive. The one I was acquainted with in Sunnydale, she has a chance. Still three days is a long time for a demon to refrain from killing someone.” The dark vampire wanted to stress the direness of the situation, but kept his own near panic for the girl's well being to himself. He didn't know this new Spike, but thankfully the demon seemed more controlled. But his real opinion was that Willow was either ruined, dead or turned. Nothing else would make sense. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Invite me in, pet.” 

They stood at her front door, her hand shaking as she turned the knob. “Come in, Spike.” 

He crossed the threshold behind her, but remained there, taking in the place, memorizing the scent. 

“This is where I want you to be, not in the dorm room with the stench of the slayer ruining your delightful aroma.” 

“What? I live there!” 

“Then you'll move.” She was silent, but fumed internally. He saw her anger and decided to take his leave. “I'll be going now.” 

“Bye.” She said flatly and he chuckled. 

“What? No kiss? I suppose not, heh. But you owe me one now, Red.” She sat on the sofa, expecting him to join her. 

“Will you close the door, Spike?” She twisted around to face him, but he was gone. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Giles fumbled, shocked by the loud ringing. Buffy took the phone and answered for him, hoping it was the vampire she loved to hate. 

“Hello.” 

“B-Buffy…” 

“Wills? Wills!” She could hear the redhead start to cry, a breakdown that was days overdue. “Are you okay? Willow, please! Where are you?” She turned to Xander, who bombarded her with questions, hushing him. “Willow where are you? We can come.” 

“Home…please,” she fell into another fit of tears, wretched sobs torn from her soul. She cried because she was free of him, she cried because he would return. “He's gone...I'm h-home…” 

“Sunnydale? She's home! Giles, let's go, turn around.” 

“Of course.” The older man maneuvered the car, listening intently. 

“Tell her I love her, Buffy,” Xander commanded from the back. 

“Willow, please… Xander loves you, we all love you. Are you hurt? What did he do to you?” 

And that was the question. What did he do that she didn't allow, accept, desire? Her complicity was undeniable. What would they say if they knew? Could she tell part of the story, the part that kept her innocent, the victim? Even now, knowing that he tricked her and found it to be great sport, she felt the pull of him between her legs. She touched the latest bite, shaking her head at the tingles that small caress invoked, and resolved to hide it. 

“Nothing,” she choked out. “I'm okay. Not hurt.” 

“Oh, thank God! Are your parents there?” 

“Nooo…” she whimpered, wishing for the cold comfort of those two people who never had time for her before. 

“It's okay. We're coming. Lock up and stay put. Just two hours Willow, okay? I can stay on the phone with you till we get there. You want me to?” 

She inhaled deeply, a calming breath and sighed. “No, it's okay. I'm okay. Just hurry?” 

“Yes. And I'm sorry, Wills.” 

“Sorry? For what, Buffy?” This perplexed the redhead. Maybe she really did refuse to trade for the ring, but Spike got it anyway. 

“I should have taken it to Angel myself. It was careless of me and put you in danger. So…” 

“Stop. Please. No guilt. Not over this. Now I'll see you soon.” 

“Okay, bye.” 

They hung up. Willow thought she could not cry anymore, but was wrong. She had to make Buffy understand it was not her fault. She could not handle her friend's guilt. She asked to go along, partially to make sure her boyfriend was being faithful even though she would never had said that out loud, so it was her own idea. 

Funny, she hadn't thought about Oz for a while. Spike had become all to her, surrounding her with his energy and essence, and she felt empty and alone, not happy and free as she anticipated. 

But that was what they would expect, Happy Willow. So she would perform for them and play her role until he came back for her. If he came back for her.


End file.
